7. Chapter 6 #2
“First, you’re not going to fail. And why can’t you just do both?”
“Because I’m exhausted with my job.” The words were out before she could stop herself. “Which you already know.”
“Yep, I just wanted to hear you say it. Quitting a job is not the end of the world. Even if it’s part of your identity.
It’s okay to change and to grow and to want better or just plain different things for yourself.
And if you decide you want to come back to it, the world is always on fire.
You’ll have no shortage of crap to write about. ”
“I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at that.
Or do both.” It was true though. “Thank you for listening to me ramble at one in the morning.” She’d texted Thea to see if she was awake and her friend had called back immediately.
Hope had thought about walking down to Bradford’s bedroom, but that way lay trouble.
“You don’t ever have to thank me for that… I’m quitting,” Thea blurted.
She sat up in bed. Only a dim lamp on the nightstand illuminated the room. “What?”
“Yeah. I’m going back to teaching. I miss it more than I thought possible.
I’m tired of trying to convince myself that I love this job.
And I miss the community that comes with teaching.
I know some people love working remotely, but I hate being so isolated.
I want to be back in the classroom with kids who are fun and curious and still think the world is a good place.
I can’t be around all this dumpster fire anymore. It’s destroying me mentally.”
“I’m so happy for you.” They’d both been unhappy for ages and had been talking about making a change. “Wait, is that why you’re using up all your vacation days?”
Thea snickered. “Hell yeah. When Mark quit they tried to push him out without letting him use up his benefits, so I decided to take what I’ve earned.”
Good for her. “So how is Oregon anyway?”
“Gorgeous. Green everywhere. The cabin I’m in is wonderful and I’ve done nothing but hike, read, kayak, read some more, and relax. And there’s this hot guy staying in the cabin next to mine so…we’ll see what happens. I might even think about moving out to the West Coast, it’s that peaceful.”
“I hope you enjoy him and the rest of your time there.”
They continued talking for another twenty minutes until Hope was struggling to keep her eyes open. At least she was too tired now to think about crawling into Bradford’s bed. Because she had to make better choices with him.
She wasn’t sure how long she dozed for, but at a slamming sound she popped up, heart racing. It was still dark out, she realized, and she didn’t think she’d been asleep for long.
Quietly, she slid out of bed, slid on her slippers, and grabbed her dad’s shotgun. She hoped it was just Bradford, but when she heard glass breaking somewhere downstairs, she hurried out the door.
She avoided the two spots in the floor that squeaked and rounded the corner toward the hallway, her father’s shotgun up and ready—and found Bradford on top of someone on the floor, zip-tying their hands behind their back.
“There’s another one who ran. Keep your shotgun trained on this one. If he moves, shoot him,” he ordered, his expression hard, nothing like the man who’d comforted her only hours before.
She nodded, familiar with this version of him. The badass, deadly one who went from the fun-loving guy who took part in dance-offs to the one who could take charge in an instant.
He hurried past her, racing out the front door, and she spotted a smashed vase on the floor. Looked like it fell over in their struggle.
“This is all just a misunderstanding.” The man, who was facedown on the wood floor right next to one of her mother’s antique buffet tables, tried to roll over.
“Don’t. Move. You broke into my house the day of my father’s funeral. I’m not feeling generous right now.” And she really had to pee so that was fun. The longer she stood there, she was cursing herself for not grabbing her cell phone, which was likely tangled in her covers upstairs.
But she’d been so focused on getting to Bradford, on making sure that he was okay, that she hadn’t thought of it. Stupid mistake.
Luckily the guy didn’t say another word, just remained where he was, facedown.
She didn’t recognize him from when she’d lived here and it wasn’t Jed Tanner.
So another stranger showing up making trouble.
When she heard footfalls coming up the front porch, she swiveled, but immediately lowered her weapon when she saw Bradford stepping through the front door.
“Guy got away, but I’ve called the police. They’re on the way,” he murmured, taking the weapon from her.
She opened her mouth to ask questions, but he shook his head so she took his lead and simply nodded. What the heck was going on? First some jerk showed up at her place demanding money, and now whatever this was.
Had her dad owed someone something? By all accounts he’d turned his life around, but there had been a time when he’d never been able to hold on to anything. It was a miracle (in the form of her mother) that he hadn’t lost this place before he’d gotten sober.
She didn’t believe in coincidence. Something weird was going on. And she would figure out what it was.